


eye of the storm

by screechfox



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Justification of Immoral Behaviour, Canon-Typical Unhappiness, Discussion of Beholding Powers, Ficlet, Gen, Post-Episode 141, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 14:37:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19297759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: As they travel to Ny-Ålesund, Jon and Basira talk. It's not a happy conversation.(Spoilers for Episode 141)





	eye of the storm

“What does it feel like?”

Whatever second-hand benefit Basira had got from Floyd Matharu’s statement, it’s faded by now. Her voice is thick with seasickness again; her eyes bleary as she peers at Jon in the low light of their room.

“What does what feel like?”

“Forcing someone to tell you things. Taking a statement.”

“It’s…” The words dry up in Jon’s throat as he considers. The boat rocks around them, a slow, ever-present rumble like a storm on the horizon. The weather is clear, he _knows,_  but the sound still leaves him twitchy. Maybe Matharu’s statement is lingering in his mind.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Basira says, hurried. “I was just… wondering.” She rolls the last word in her mouth as though it leaves a bitter taste.

“No, I just… I’ve never said it out loud before. I don’t really know how to put it into words.” Jon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, you’ve recorded statements before, haven’t you?”

“A couple.”

“It’s like that, but _more._ High definition, I suppose.”

“High definition.”

“There’s more clarity to it. There’s more detail— more colour, more feeling, more sensation, everything. It’s… richer. Christ, that sounds pretentious.”

“Hm. I… I think I know what you mean.” Basira’s voice dips quieter, and Jon feels a pang of something in his chest. Reunion with Daisy excepted, it’s the first time he’s heard her be anything other than wary since he woke up. There’s worry in her voice, and maybe even the slightest undertone of fear.

“You do?” It’s a pointless question, but he asks it anyway. He has to.

She nods, the shifting fabric of her hijab a blur in the dim light.

“Yes,” she whispers.

Well. There’s not much he can say to that, really.

They both fall quiet, lost in their own separate thoughts. Every so often, Jon thinks she says something, but she hasn’t moved — watching him with dark, judgemental eyes. He wishes he could feel bad about the insight into her thought processes, but he’s too tired to make the effort to feel guilty.

At last, there’s an intake of breath before she actually speaks.

“And forcing someone? What did that feel like?”

“... Basira, we needed the information.”

“I… I know. But what did it _feel_ like?”

Jon pauses, studying her expression until it becomes awkward. Despite his _insight,_ it’s a struggle to figure out what she wants from him; what answer will finally satisfy her?

(Well, he knows the answer to _that._ Basira belongs to the Eye, the same as he does.)

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“It felt good. It feels better every time. Like I’m getting used to using a muscle. It used to be overwhelming, but now— I don’t know. Exhilarating, maybe?”

“Exhilarating.”

“You _asked._ I need to tell you stuff, remember?”

Basira exhales slowly. She nods, the movement slow through her reservations. Jon echoes her sigh, feeling irritation spark in his chest.

“I’m not going to go off the deep end and start compelling statements out of everyone we meet, if that’s what you’re worried about. Floyd Matharu had information on Salesa. Salesa is a _recurring_ person of interest, and I have no doubt that he’ll be relevant again, dead or not.”

“And what if someone else comes along with _relevant_ information?”

“Then we’ll ask them about it. The compulsion is a last resort, I promise.”

“It didn’t seem like a last resort. It kind of seemed like the only thing on your mind, once the tape recorder started running.”

“Then we’d better hope you’re in a position to stop me next time, hm?”

Jon watches as Basira clenches her fists. It takes her a few seconds to relax again, the anger on her face wrinkled by confusion.

“Yeah. I guess we should.”

Her eyes sweep over him like she’s studying him — trying to get insights into his mind the way he can get insights into hers.

Finally, she sighs, leaning back against the cold metal of her bunk. There’s a resignation to the curve of her shoulders. It could be defeat, even, but he knows she doesn’t give in that easily. This conversation isn’t over.

Jon stands up and walks to his own bunk. A thousand friendly words sit underneath his tongue, tasting of ink and old paper.

“It’s a day until we reach Ny-Ålesund,” he says instead. “We should both rest. Save our energy for the ritual.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I suppose so.”

**Author's Note:**

> it is super hard to write someone when you have 0% clue what's going on in their brain in canon, but i hope i pulled it off!
> 
> you can find me at [screechfoxes](https://screechfoxes.tumblr.com) on tumblr. feel free to come and yell at me about all the cool stuff happening in TMA right now!


End file.
